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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23330200">Wife.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brieoftarth/pseuds/Brieoftarth'>Brieoftarth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Best Friends, College, Fluff, High School, Pre-Relationship, lil bit of smut but not much, misunderstandings oops</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:02:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23330200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brieoftarth/pseuds/Brieoftarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Brienne Tarth met Jaime Lannister when she was six and he was eight. He came home with her brother Galladon after school one day, and she sat on the porch with her mother and father as Galladon and Jaime played in the garden, pretending to be knights at a tourney. At the end, Jaime won and he crowned Brienne his Queen of Love and Beauty."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>169</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wife.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lewispanda/gifts">lewispanda</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you to the amazing Lewispanda for being an amazing beta and helping me with this! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Brienne Tarth met Jaime Lannister when she was six and he was eight. He came home with her brother Galladon after school one day, and she sat on the porch with her mother and father as Galladon and Jaime played in the garden, pretending to be knights at a tourney. At the end, Jaime won and he crowned Brienne his Queen of Love and Beauty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was seven years old when Jaime held her hand at her brother's funeral, whispering words of encouragement into her ear. Again, she was seven years old when he held her hand at her mother's funeral, just a few months later. Afterwards he went home with the Tarth family - Brienne had refused to let go of his hand after all - and they watched movies together in the basement. He told her about his own mother, gave her advice about coping, offered a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brienne wasn’t quite sure when she had fallen in love with Jaime, but by the age of fourteen she knew she was smitten with him. And, she wasn’t sure, but she thought that maybe he felt the same way, too. He defended her against bullies, he helped her with her homework, she helped him with his reading and listened to his rants about his father and his sister. They were inseparable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Jaime had promised that he would take her out for Valentine’s Day. Her first ever date! And it would be with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jaime! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Alright, he hadn’t used the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>date, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t have dinners on Valentine’s Day without there being a hidden meaning, right? That’s what she told herself, anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She begged her father to take her shopping for a new dress, but he told her he was useless when it came to fashion, so he sent her with his new girlfriend instead. A younger woman called Roelle, not much older than Brienne. Mid 20’s, at the very least. She sat in the changing room, staring at her instagram feed as Brienne tried on dresses, and only grunted in response. Brienne settled on a lovely blue smock dress with capped sleeves - it didn’t accentuate her lack of a waist or make her shoulders look overly large, but it was the same colour as her eyes and Jaime </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> always told her that blue was her colour, and more importantly, it made her feel pretty. Roelle just shrugged and handed over Selwyn’s card to make the payment, and Brienne was giddy with excitement the whole car journey home because it felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>real.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hung it up on the front of her wardrobe, so that every morning she could look at the dress and then count down to the 14th of February. It was all so exciting! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that evening as she laid in bed, Jaime called her. Melara Hetherspoon had asked him out. Melara, the best friend of his twin sister, had asked him to be her boyfriend. And then there was silence, and she didn’t have to ask what he was implying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re not going out on Valentine’s day, are we?” She asked, her eyes filling up with tears he couldn’t see. But she was Brienne: strong, tall, stoic. She could deal with the rejection. “That’s okay. That’s fine. Me and papa usually do something on the 14th anyway.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then she told her father, who gave her an uneasy smile and glanced between her and Roelle, who sat at the top of the kitchen table with a smirk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Starlight... Roelle and I are going to Dorne that weekend. I’d love to spend it with you but we’ve paid for the flights and the hotel and --” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brienne just shook her head, plastering on a smile to appease her father. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And after that, Brienne avoided Jaime like the plague. If he was coming down the same corridor at school, usually with one arm draped around Melara’s shoulder, she’d turn on her heel. If his name popped up on her phone screen, she declined his calls or ignored his messages. Even after his relationship with Melara ended a month later - which didn’t surprise her, because although Melara was very beautiful she was really quite dull - Brienne still didn’t talk to him as much as she had done previously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaime became offended by her reluctance to speak to him. They began to snap at each other, and it was no longer in the friendly bickering sense. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>awful </span>
  </em>
  <span>to each other, and neither realised that the insults that were thrown around had no truth behind them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He left their high school two years later and went off to university in King’s Landing, and Brienne was thankful for the break. They spoke occasionally, but it was only ever to send a nameday gift and then a text to thank the other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Things didn’t change for a while. Not until Brienne secured a place at the same university. It hadn’t been intentional, LSHU was just one of the best universities in Westeros so it had been unsurprising that that was the path they both chose.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They reconnected through university. It started as casual conversations, and then Brienne found a link to watch a cancelled series on the story of Goldenhand the Just and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>had to</span>
  </em>
  <span> invite Jaime over to watch it. They had fangirled over it when they had been early teens and it seemed only fitting that they watch it together again. And then she realised how much she missed him, she missed the friendly bickering and the debates, and most of all, Brienne missed having a friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They quickly fell into their old ways. Jaime gained Brienne’s trust again, and one night after too many wine coolers, Brienne confessed that she still hadn’t kissed anyone yet. Jaime volunteered eagerly to be her first, and Brienne shyly nodded in reply. It was strange for the first second or two, but he gave her time to adjust. His lips were pressed against hers, and she stayed still, before she kissed him back. Her touch was unsure, unconfident, but he was patient. He was kind. He cupped her cheek, pushed her hair behind her ear, nibbled softly at her lower lip while she gained confidence. And then it turned out that despite her inexperience, she was good at kissing and he couldn’t stop the whole night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He left in the morning, and they didn’t talk about it again until Jaime invited her to a party at the end of her first year in college. Tyrion, the party animal of the Lannister family, was the host and Brienne tried, really really tried not to let herself get caught up in the student party lifestyle but Jaime had a very compelling argument for her to go this time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Any onlookers would have thought they were dating. Jaime fetched her drinks, rested his hand on the small of her back as they talked, and would lean over to talk into her ear when the music got too loud for her to hear him. They were partners in beer pong, and smashed their opponents. Then came along a game of truth or dare. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She giggled over her cup as she opted for truth and Tyrion gave her a teasing smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it true that you’re still a virgin?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t trying to be mean, but it was embarrassing. No, being a virgin wasn’t embarrassing. She just hadn’t quite expected to be asked something so personal in front of so many people. Her smile fell, and she gave a curt nod as she sipped the wine from her solo cup. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enough of that, Tyrion.” Jaime spoke up, and Brienne felt him tug her elbow. He took her outside to one of the balconies, and before Brienne knew what she was doing, she pressed herself against Jaime, her lips finding his. And for a second, Jaime kissed back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to be a virgin anymore,” she huffed drunkenly, and Jaime chuckled as he held her close. “And I’d like it if you were my first. I trust you. I don’t trust anyone else.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not tonight. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” Jaime kissed her forehead and Brienne nodded sadly, her head burrowing against his neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day, Brienne woke up in her bedroom with the worst headache and the dryest mouth. And then all the memories of the previous night came back to her, and the anxiety that came from it was just bloody awful. Had she really told Jaime that she wanted to have sex with him? Gods, she never wanted to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>smell</span>
  </em>
  <span> wine or face Jaime ever again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stumbled into her kitchen for a glass of water, and groaned quietly. Jaime was there, preparing coffee </span>
  <em>
    <span>shirtless</span>
  </em>
  <span>, having spent the night on her sofa. Would it be acceptable to run right out of her own apartment? Absolutely not. So she faced him, just hoping to all the Gods in the world that he wouldn’t bring anything up as she sat at the breakfast bar, her head in her hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“About last night-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jaime</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I will kill you if you continue to speak.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just laughed, and she rested her forehead on the cool surface. “Stop it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Brienne. I’m up for it. If that’s what you want, then I’d... It’d be an </span>
  <em>
    <span>honour.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that’s just how their kinda-almost-friends with benefits agreement started. She hadn’t known what to expect from losing her virginity. She of course had touched herself, but that really didn’t compare to another person’s hand or body between her legs. It had been.... Nice. Nice, but awkward, and nowhere near as painful as what people had previously said. After, he collapsed onto the empty space beside her, panting and grinning like the biggest idiot on earth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned to her, his head propped up by his hand, his free hand resting on her stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you come?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brienne had been honest, and quite frankly, he was taken aback. Jaime’s sexual history wasn’t extensive - she knew it because they had talked about it - but the two women he had been with beforehand had sung his praises after sex, giggling as they kissed him. But no, not his Brienne. Nothing if not honesty from her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It felt nice. It felt really nice. But -- I didn’t see stars. Don’t they always write about women seeing stars when they climax with someone else?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me try again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Brienne, let me try! I can make you cum. I can,” he whined like a petulant child, and Brienne rolled her eyes with a playful smile, before lifting the covers to invite him back on top. Jaime rolled back on top of her and kissed her. And then his lips were on her chin, her neck, her shoulder. He kissed a path down her body, until she realised where he was going, and she sat up on her elbows with a blush starting from her forehead to her chest. “Jaime,” she whispered, nudging his hip with her knee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think too much, Brienne. Lay back. Relax.” His words were muffled by her skin, but she did what she was told and lay back against her pillows. She had seen this in movies - yes, those type of movies, when curiosity had gotten the better of her - but she had heard that men didn’t like doing it and what if he -- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then his tongue drew a line between her lips and all thoughts were out of the window. Her legs fell open for him as she reached back to grasp the pillow her head was laid on, and her back arched as soon as his tongue flicked over her clit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, Brienne </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> see stars and Gods, and it was much better than she had ever anticipated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had to tell herself every time Jaime left that it was just fucking. Nothing more. Nothing more than two adults who fucked to relieve stress. It didn’t happen too often, mostly after exams, after a particularly gruelling essay or report, or just because student life was difficult - and Jaime never stayed the night, and Brienne never asked him too. It felt like that would be breaking an unspoken rule. It wasn’t about feelings, it was just to relieve an urge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite that, Brienne would change her sheets after and fall face first into bed, listening to Adele songs on repeat. She knew she was truly fucked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just like in high school, Brienne chose not to date. It was a confusing world, and men were mean to her, with Jaime being the exception. Men, Brienne had learned very quickly, were intimated by taller women. And when men became intimidated, they became nasty. So, dating was pointless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then, Ron Connington introduced himself to her while she had lunch under her favourite tree at the campus. She was minding her own business, reading through one of the textbooks that she had just bought, when she heard a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thump</span>
  </em>
  <span> and turned her head to the side to see him sitting there beside her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’re you reading?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One Entrepreneur’s Take on Leadership, Social Media, and Self-Awareness. For one of my classes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ron nodded, and scooted closer to have a look at the page she was reading. And then they started talking, and he was funny and kind of cute. Not handsome, like Jaime, but he was attractive. They talked for an hour or two, and not just about school. He asked her questions about her life, about her family, and it was the first time a man had truly shown any interest in just </span>
  <em>
    <span>her. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He even asked for Brienne’s number, and she smiled shyly as she typed her name into his contacts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Ron:</b>
  <span> Hey! Had a nice day. And I wanted to ask you when I was there, but I was super nervous. Would you like to go for dinner/drinks on Friday? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Brienne</b>
  <span>: Hi! That would be really nice - Tell me when and where and I’ll be there! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brienne would deny it if anyone ever asked her, but that evening she squealed when she told her roommate Asha. It was very romantic. Everyone she knew that was dating had met on dating apps, or had a drunken fumble on a night out, but she and Ron had met under a tree and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was just like the stories she read. She couldn’t wait to tell her father all about it and okay, it might’ve been a bit soon to start thinking about their future, but Brienne thought it would be so sweet to tell the story of their meeting to future friends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pulled out her entire wardrobe to find something suitable to wear, but all of her clothes were so practical or too casual, and while usually she didn’t put much effort into the way she looked, she wanted to look nice for Ron. It wasn’t until she had pulled every piece of clothing out of her wardrobe that she found the blue smock dress that she had intended on wearing for her date with Jaime. It had been years but it still fit her, albeit it was a little shorter than when she had first tried it on. But it still looked pretty. It still made her feel pretty. She didn’t bother too much with makeup. Jaime had often told her that hiding her freckles was a disservice to the world, everyone should get to see them, so she swapped out her full coverage foundation for a light coverage, and applied just the tiniest bit of mascara and pale pink lipstick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She got the bus to the restaurant Ron had invited her to, shivering with excitement the whole journey there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” she smiled at the waiter at the front desk. “There should be a reservation under Connington. I’m supposed to meet him here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing under that name, ma’am.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Under Ron, perhaps? He asked me to meet him here but I’m early,” she looked at her watch, and the waiter shook his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about Ronnet?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, ma’am, again, no reservations under that name. Perhaps you’d like to take a seat at the bar? We aren’t too busy this evening, if-” he cleared his throat. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>When</span>
  </em>
  <span> he arrives, I’ll show you to your table.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brienne paused, her hands wringing together anxiously. But she just nodded, trying to swallow the anxious thoughts that were congregating in her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sat at the bar and ordered a white wine. An hour passed. She texted Ron, asking what time should she expect him. And then another glass of wine, and another hour passed. And then </span>
  <em>
    <span>another </span>
  </em>
  <span>hour passed, and the bartender gave her a pitying smile as he passed another glass her way, on the house. Her phone sat in front of her the entire time, and not one single notification came through. Not a single text.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Ding! </strong>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One notification from Snapchat came through. From Jaime’s sister, which made Brienne frown. She barely knew Cersei, but they hadn’t really gotten on. Cersei had been rather jealous that Brienne had ‘stolen’ Jaime’s attention away from her. She opened the video, and felt sick to her stomach as she heard Cersei’s voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you have a date with Brienne Tarth tonight?” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The camera panned to Ron, taking a swig of beer as he looked directly at the camera. He then laughed, throwing his head back as if it had been the funniest thing he had ever heard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That big cow? I can’t believe she fell for it!” He laughed again, harder this time, and Brienne just slammed her phone down onto the bar with her cheeks turning pink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>fair.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It wasn’t. Brienne hated feeling sorry for herself, she wasn’t a damsel in distress, but she didn’t deserve that just because she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ugly </span>
  </em>
  <span>by society's standards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just when she was about to pick up her glass of wine to finish, a coat was draped around her shoulders. She turned, and although surprised to see Jaime, the sadness didn’t leave her eyes. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“.. He isn’t coming,” she whispered. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I know,” he whispered back, and pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting it linger as he cupped the back of her neck. </span>
  <span></span><br/>

  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Could I have a drink for me and my very patient wife, please?” He called over to the bartender. “Glass of white, and I’ll have....” He squinted at the menu. “Sex on the Beach. Reminds me of Essos. And not because of the drink. Remember, wife?” He nudged Brienne, urging her to play along. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Honey, you can’t go around spilling </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of our secrets,” she gasped in feigned annoyance, hiding her smile behind her hand as he took a seat on the bar stool next to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that night when Brienne went home with Jaime, they didn’t fuck. No, there was something different between them. Jaime took control; his kisses were soft, his lips traced every freckle on her skin, his thrusts were slow and calculated. Usually, they fucked frantically with one goal in mind, but in Brienne’s opinion that night could be described as making love, as cheesy as it did sound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While he usually left, Jaime stayed that evening. She stayed in his arms and they talked until morning, sharing lazy kisses until they both fell asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
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